


FOR THE EMPEROR!!!

by InebriatedCaffeineImbiber



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Blood and Gore, Science Fiction, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:27:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24769999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InebriatedCaffeineImbiber/pseuds/InebriatedCaffeineImbiber
Summary: What happens when an Astartes gets transported to the Haloverse? They get to work.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	1. His Angel of Death

The ground was slick with blood, but the boots of the Space Marine did not falter to provide grip. The mobile tank ran forward as a speed nearly incomprehensible to the human mind, with chainsword and bolter in hand, he charged the lines of the rapidly expanding line of heretical scum.

His Battle Brothers were right beside him, forming a wall of Ceramite and bolters as they rushed the heretics. His chainsword ripped apart two human heretics as if they were sheets of paper, before he chanced upon a Psyker.

Putting his bolter away and withdrawing his plasma pistol, he aimed with the Emperor’s Might and unleashed a ball of hellfire at the Psyker. But those unholy lips were spewing out blasphemous words that belonged to the foul depths of the warp. As he unleashed his pistol, the blue ball spewed out and engulfed the heretic.

But he must’ve finished the incantation, or at least partially, for he felt as if his whole body was being pulled through a rubber tube far too small for him to fit. It was a torturous few seconds before he saw the light again, and the sounds of battle.

But instead the sound of bolter fire and the screaming litanies of his Battle Brothers, he was faced a completely different environment, lush green without a spill of blood in sight.

But a further look around showed he was in a fight between two foreign powers. But there was a distinct difference between the two. One side were humans that looked like Guardsman, while the other looked like a race of foul Xenos he had never encountered before. He was torn between the two. The Guardsman look alikes weren’t really what he remembered, but the presence of the foul Xenos overrode any objections he had to the humans.

Turning around, he put his plasma pistol away and let his bolter roar, the rocket propelled bolt screamed through the air and impacted the primitive shielding of an Elite. The resultant explosion sent shrapnel scattering nearby, impaling a few unfortunate Jackals and Unggoy.

But it wasn’t a second later when a second bolt impacted the shield, breaking it completely and by then it was all over. The third bolt collided into the Elite’s armour and borrowed itself through, only exploding once it penetrated the skin, leaving the foul Xenos to be bisected by the awesome explosive force.

This all happened within a span of a few seconds, before that bolter moved again and fired another volley at an approaching Elite, bisecting him like the first. Another volley and another went down dying.

  
By now the Xenos front had nearly reached him, as had the humans. Rifle fire and plasma shot ricocheted and sizzled off his Ceramite as if it were nothing. He let loose another volley before he had to retrieve his chainsword, the teeth screeching as they kept getting sharper and sharper with each revolution, spitting out sparks as the motor block spat out black smoke.

With the first enemy, an Elite who thought to engage him in hand to hand combat, would be dismayed as the Space Marine moved faster than modern human comprehension, grabbing the Elite by his face and proceeding to bisect him with his chainsword. The adamantine teeth squeeled and the engine growled as it sparked against the shielding before breaking through, splattering the area around them in a thick layer of blood and gore.

Sufficiently annihilated, the Elite was dropped before the Marine ran into the fray. The growling and whining of the chainsword could be heard as it swung and chopped a disgusting path through the Xenos.

The human side made headway against their enemy, thanks to the progress by the Space Marine. Soon enough artillery rained fire onto the Elite’s position, and the Xenos were forced to beat a hasty retreat.

He turned around to see the human line a few metres behind him, staring at him warily. The battlefield was quiet except for a few shots from individual marines at the retreating line of Elites. The Marine glanced around, his ocular device focussing on all of the humans and their equipment, their weapons wouldn’t have a hope to affect him. But what drew his attention was rapid movement in the sea of Guardsman look-a-likes, a comparatively hulking figure adorned in green primitive metal armour came thundering towards him.

The new foe took out their weapon and fired into the Marine, the bullets ricocheting harmlessly off his thick Ceramite, it was built to sustain far worse than what this human could put out. They closed the distance rather quickly, surprising for a human.

The Marine hefted his bolter and squeezed off a burst, the bolts screaming towards their target at incredible speeds. The human dodged them, but only just, for the rocket propelled projectiles were as fast as they were deadly. The Marine squeezed off another burst, this time one caught the human in the chest. An energy shield crackled, similar to the ones the Xenos had.

The Space Marine watched this human as they got closer and closer, electing to put his Bolter away and equipped his chainsword. The engine roared again as he waited for the figure to get closer.

They suddenly broke from the crowd and blasted up the hill, a large knife appearing in their hand as they made to do combat.

If it was any other human, this would’ve worked.

_HISScrrk_

But this man, is an Astartes.

_Brum-brum-brum-RrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRR!_

A man of The Emperor.

_SSSSSSSSSSBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!_

His Angel of Death.

_Splosh BRRRrrrr drdrdrrron_

The human laid at the Marine’s feet, bisected by the fearsome power of the chainsword. The torso was messily removed from the hips and what was once whole, now laid in two pieces. The humans around him stared up in horror at what they’ve just witnessed.

“Anyone else who wishes to show me what passes for fury amongst your misbegotten kind!?” The Marine roared from his vox.

No one dared to come up to challenge him, for how could they? They were mere mortals before this beast of armour and firepower. He towered over them with a might not seen before, and their greatest warrior was dead at his feet with no apparent effort.

The crowd parted again to reveal a tall woman in military garb who stopped at the bottom of the hill and looked up at the monstrous man. “I am the Commander of the UNSC in this area. You have provided assistance while also killing one of our Spartans, surrender now and we may have peaceful discussions.”

“And why should I kneel to you? From what I have seen, I could slaughter you all without a problem.”

“Be that as it may, we have plenty of ordnance to bring someone like you down. This isn’t the full extent of our arsenal. While I have no doubt you have supreme confidence in your skills, I would prefer no further bloodshed.”

“I would still be surrendering to you, and an Astartes never surrenders.”

“Consider it as a ceasefire with negotiations then. We certainly have no quarrel with you, and we wish to open a sort of peace between you and I.”

“Mmmm… Would my weapons be confiscated?”

“Yes, as would mine.” The Commander assured.

“No matter, my body is a weapon in of itself… Fine, I will accept your small proposal. I hope you have answers.”

“We certainly do have questions.” The Commander warned.


	2. For Those They Cherish

The Space Marine was escorted under heavy guard through a checkpoint, where he forfeited his weapon and subjected himself to an x-ray scan. The next few rooms where separated by a thick blast door, and only with the permission of the officer on duty could someone ever go past the checkpoint. He took the time to analyse the people and area around him. He saw how primitive their technology was, their projectile weapons were insignificant for the most part and their security systems were no different. He saw people in multiple types of uniform, their branches and divisions emblazoned on small patches that laid on their upper arms.

His suit made quiet thuds as it made impact with the ground, masking the lighter footfalls of his escort. All around him were tactical displays that fed different information with changing importance. He could make out the battlefield that he fought on, the green marking he presumed where small elements or squads doing sweeps across it.

But everywhere he went, people stopped to look up at him. His shadow passed over them like a choking smog, his red eye lenses sparked fear in their hearts and the quietness at which he moved terrified them to their core. How could such a large… beast, move so quietly? Why isn’t his presence heralded by heavier footfalls? Was he truly under arrest or giving them the illusion of control?

He was directed to a large area that the Astarte could only assume was for training. Melee dummies were placed along the walls, with two large winding in an ovular shape, with another two in a long straight line and a small range for the firing of weapons. On the wall was a leader board revealing a rank and file of soldiers who had performed the best out of the whole course. At the very top was a Petty Officer who he had never heard of before. Down lower were lower ranks such as privates and lance corporals who also performed on the course.

An intercom crackled as the Astarte settled in the middle of the room. “We will be requiring you to conduct a few tests for scientific purposes. So please conduct the tests to the best of your abilities and whichever order you prefer.” The scientist spoke with a clipped voice, staring down at the giant man below him.

“You are trying to see what my secrets are. I assure you, you will not find them.” His vox crackled, his gaze turning to look up at the scientist.

He remained silent, which caused the Astarte to assume that there would be no more talk. He took his place at the straight track, looking around. He carefully settled into a running stance, his breathing regular and his hearts pumping in quiet unison. He braced himself, before leaping off in a blast of air.

His breathing quickened and his hearts spiked in their intensity to keep up with the sudden performance demand. His body bounded across the track. His power armour had kicked into gear to assist in his movement, the legs storing potential energy and releasing them in explosive footsteps. The machine spirit of the armour ensured that his form was as efficient as possible, no energy would be wasted, and no movement would be superfluous.

He had crossed 100 metres in under six seconds from a standing stance. At the end of the track he braced himself and slowed down after crossing the line, standing up straight and looking at the scientists. Their faces resembled sheets of paper; their forehead shiny with a thin veneer of sweat. The Astarte could see them vibrate, and he could detect the very faint scent of ammonia in the air.

He next walked over to a weight machine and shouldered it, hefting the weight easily. The machine began to add more weight and pressure. 200 kilograms… 700 kilograms… 1000 kilograms… 1100 kilograms… 1300 kilograms…

The marine barely broke a sweat, and his stance hadn’t changed whatsoever. His body only moved when the weight ticked to the 1600 kilogram marker, a stunning 1.6 tonnes. His body buckled slightly as he kept holding up the machine, but it noticed the decrease in resistance and immediately removed the weight and pressure, a safety measure to be sure.

“Are you done with your little tests?” The Astarte directly asked the gaggle of scientists, who hadn’t changed much since he looked at them before. Finally, one of them shook themselves to a modicum of sanity and nodded emphatically, giving the Space Marine permission to leave.

While leaving the training room, he was escorted again under heavy guard to what seemed like an interrogation chamber. The door was sealed with a thick bulkhead, the marine having to duck under it to get passed. The room was sparse, with only a metal table and two metal chairs. He stood at one end; the chairs far too small for him to sit down on them.

He would not be alone for long, as the doors open to reveal the female commander whom he met on the battlefield before. She looked towards his direction before taking a seat on the opposite side of the table, sheets of paper in a folder in her hand. She flipped through the notes, periodically looking towards him before back to the papers. She sighed and tossed them on the table, stippling her fingers. “If anyone else had shown me these numbers, I would’ve put them in a cell.”

“Do the reports seem so unbelievable?” His Vox crackled. He shifted from one foot to another, his eyes taking in her body language.

“You were weighed at a bit over one tonne, which is fine enough considering how large you are and how seemingly bulky your armour is. But these numbers… you can run at approximately 18 meters per second, which would have you run a bit over a kilometre per minute. Not just that, but you held up a weight of 1.6 tonnes until your body and stance shifted, I have no doubt you could go up to 2 tonnes if you put your mind to it, maybe beyond.” She stood up and approached him, her eye critically evaluating him. “And that doesn’t even take into account the multitude of changes in your biology. Your rib cage has become exceedingly dense and has fused into a solid mas. You have two hearts, three lungs, your bones are _substantially_ thicker, and there is a myriad of medical abnormalities that we cannot explain.” She took a deep breath and rubbed her temples, her forehead creased with wrinkles.

“You are currently stronger than our best warriors. There is current propaganda that states that our Spartan IIs can lift a 60-tonne tank, but I know that’s not possible. You dwarf them in size, speed and lift capacity. Your armaments are nothing we have seen before and that small pistol you have is something not even the Covenant has created. Your small arm fires a projectile we have never seen before, a sort of mass reactive shell? Like a small rocket. And your melee weapon… It is a butcher’s weapon, cleaving both through armour and flesh alike.” She stood closer. “What are you?” She whispered, a tinge of fear in her voice.

“I am one of the Emperor’s Chosen, I am his Angel of Death. I am the mighty bulwark that holds against the multitude of races and heretics that would see the glorious Imperium crumble. We have held the line for 10,000 years, and we will hold it for longer. Combined with the strength of the strong and steadfast Imperial Guard, we shall never crack before these beasts and heretics. While I still draw breath, the innocent shall not be harmed. As long as I can point my Bolter, a civilian shall continue to live in peace. As long as I can swing my chainsword, I will swear my life to the Emperor and to the people of the Imperium.” His never wavered, his tone being as strong as his oath.

“You are a warrior of the people?” She queried, noticing how often he talked about civilians.

“My Chapter and I willingly lay our lives down if it meant the people of the Imperium could live a peaceful life. We have done so in the past, and we will continue to do so again, even at the detriment of our Chapter.” He affirmed.

“Chapter… What is that exactly?” She turned back and sat down again.

“A Chapter is… an organisation of Adeptus Astartes, each Chapter being 1000 strong, and broken up into 10 even companies. The first company is the most elite soldiers the Chapter has to offer. And there is our Chapter Master, who oversees and commands the Chapter in battle.”

Her face dropped in horror, the skin turning pale. “W-wait… You said… 1000? As in… 1000 of people like you?” The nodding of his head dropped a ball of lead in her stomach. It was a miracle they had the Spartan IIs at all, especially with how many they have. But with 1000 of people like him… They could conquer entire planets with the firepower he bought with him on that day.

“And your test results, are they abnormal for your kind?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

“No, but there are variations of us Astartes, some of us are taller or smaller, some are stronger or faster. We are like you humans; we are just the next step of evolution.” He replied.

She sighed and rubbed her forehead, not liking the new information that has been brought to her. “So what of your weapons? They are of a type we’ve never seen before. Your plasma pistol is unlike anything we’ve seen, Convenant or otherwise. And your melee weapon is rather… brutal.”

“Ah, you tried to reverse engineer it didn’t you?”

“H-how did you know?”

“It is common sense, but I suggest you prevent from tampering with my equipment. The bolter, my primary weapon, is rigged to self-destruct itself and whatever ammunition is left in the weapon if it detects a genetic imprint other than my own.”

Her face paled at that. “Y-you really don’t want your weapons to be discovered by others, do you?”

“It is less that, and more that our weapons are blessed rigorously during construction and during use, by both me and the Mechanicus. It is a matter of sacrilege for another race to attempt to reverse engineer our equipment. We consider our arms and armour to be sacrosanct, and thus exceedingly heretical to tamper with beyond their build specifications.”

She steepled her fingers together and sighed. “Would you allow us to attempt to reverse engineer your ammunition, at least? From what I can imagine you aren’t going anywhere soon until we can send you back home, which means you will be limited on your ammunition. If we can make more, then you will be able to use your weapon more freely.”

“You can try, but I would not be surprised if there was a spiritual aspect to making the ammunition. But you are welcome to try.” He stated, shrugging his large shoulder pads.

She looked back to the information again. “We also detected an incredible heat and radiation source coming from your armour. I imagine that is stored somewhere?”

“In the backpack, it houses all that I need to be in any environment.”

“Your technology far outranks ours; it is horrifying to think that other… universes are like this.” She shook her head disbelievingly.

“It is the result of when your galaxy is enraptured by a never-ending war.” He said solemnly, bowing his head slightly.

“… The Spartan that you killed earlier, he was one of the more liked people on this base.”

“That is regretful, and he was a good warrior, but that is how war works. If you go up against an opponent, you must be prepared to give your life to attain victory.”

“I realise that, however other people might not see that and will see you as a monster.” She elaborated.

“Am I a monster because I am different? If that is so, are these Spartans seen as monsters?” He inquired.

“To some yes… But your killing was rather, brutal. I will try to protect you however I can but be prepared for your presence to be unwelcome.”

“It is unfortunate that I will be seen that way, I ultimately would give my life for civilian lives… Hopefully I can revert that opinion.”

“The only way I can see that happening is to show how compassionate you are to help people. I assume you know ways to help other than shoot the nearest thing that’s hostile?”

“Yes, our Chapter ensures that we continue being teachers and educators to the people who we defend. I can help your soldiers to fire their weapons, I can carry heavy loads, I can give tactical advice. I am whatever the people need me to be.”

She sighed and rubbed her forehead again. “You will be given restricted movement of the base, and an assistant will be assigned to you to answer any questions you may have. I will attempt to find you suitable quarters. And I do advise you try to ingratiate yourself with the crew members, that might help your public opinion.”

He nodded and left the room, looking down each hallway he began to walk in any direction, not caring where the journey took him. His mind raced with what has recently happened to him. He was teleported while fighting with his brothers to a new world that he had no idea about, and he wasn’t sure if he could go back to his Chapter. He let out a deep sigh as he wandered the halls, before a human came up to him, forcing him to stop and look at them.

“Lieutenant Marlow reporting for duty. I will be your assistant for your duration of stay with us until further notice.” She stood at attention, her uniform pristine without any faults while hiding her body that was typical for the military. Her complexion was tanned with brown hair tied in a loose bun; her eyes were a striking green that showed a hint of flintiness.

He looked her up and down again, trying to figure out if there was anything noteworthy of her to be assigned to him for, other thank her rank. “Greetings… I appreciate your help in my settlement.”

She looked towards him with thinly veiled disdain. “I am here to answer whatever questions you have, show where you can and cannot go, help you assimilate into the environment and to tell you how you can be useful. Any questions in regards to what I said?”

“No no, I have no issue with you being assigned to me. But I hope you don’t mind if I ask you some questions?”

“That is what I am here for, ask away.” She said, looking at her clipboard.

“What year is this? And where exactly are we in your world?”

“The year is… 2593, and we are a long way from Earth, and far away from Reach.”

“Earth and Reach… Are these significant planets?”

“Very much so. Earth is where we humans originated from and Reach is basically a goldilocks planet, basically imitating Earth in so many ways that it was a perfect place to colonise. Few hundred years later it got invaded by an alien force we know as the Covenant and it was subsequently glassed into oblivion. Now? It’s slowly restarted and reforming, but it will be longer before it’s fully gone back to its former glory.”

“It is an awful day to see a planet filled with life to be wiped from its existence… I have seen many a planet been destroyed by the whims of paranoia and avarice.” He related wistfully, staring off into the distance.

She cleared her throat. “You seem to have experienced quite a few things.”

“Why yes I have. I have served as one of his Angels for over one hundred years. And through those years I have seen things that would make you wish Humanity never existed, to other instances that fill my hearts with pride and reinforce my desire to defend the innocent.”

“O-One hundred years!? How have you lived that long and are still fighting!? You are still in prime shape, you do not seem to be lagging behind when compared to a normal human!? Don’t you age at all?” She asked, flabbergasted.

“Us space marines end up living far longer than regular humans due to the multiple biomedical implantations and changes to our DNA, namely the Geneseed. The geneseed is the most important part of the Astartes, as it is what connects him to his chapter and ultimately makes him the killing machine that we are built to be.”

She hummed softly, looking him up and down. “Well is there anything you wish to do?”

“Can… That soldier I killed… Does he have family here?” He asked mournfully. She bit her lip before nodded. “Then please take me to them, I must ask for their forgiveness.”

She stood there for a few seconds. “Alright then, follow me.” She said as she turned and began to walk in a direction down the hall.

He followed dutifully and before long they arrived at a door with a small plaque, a name emblazoned on it. “Here is the family of the Spartan…” She turned around before knocking on the door.

A few seconds passed before the door opened to reveal a short woman who looked between the two. “Yes, how can I help you?”

The Lieutenant looked towards the Astartes, before nodding towards him. He took charge and his posture bowed slowly. “… Uhm… Madam… I have received word that you have recently lost a member of your family, have you not?”

She looked at him hard before nodding, her fingers pinching the bridge of her noise and cleared her throat to maintain her composure. “Y-yes, my son was killed today.”

The Marine look towards the lieutenant again before sighing. “I do apologise Ma’am. But I am the one who fought your son, and while we fought, I… killed him.” He sighed, his posture no longer as straight as it used to be.

She stared at him harshly. “Why are you here? Are you here to taunt me? What purpose could you possibly to be here in front of me?”

He looked at her in the eyes. “To ask for your forgiveness. War is terrible, and many people die. But this is one of a few times where I know I’ve caused pain through my actions, and so I feel that I must ask for forgiveness.”

She kept looking at him. “You are allowed to come in.” She opened the door wider for the two. The Lieutenant gratefully entered while the Astartes… less so.

The room was plainly furnished but there were chairs to be sat upon, obviously none were large enough for the Marine to sit on, so he stood in a section of the room and began to space out. Marlow sat on a chair that was offered by the woman, who had gone to grab a pot of tea. She later came back with said tea and sat with Marlow, looking between her and the Marine.

“So how did my son die, how did you kill him?” She said finally, drawing his attention again.

“He charged towards me on an open field after firing upon me. He withdrew his weapon to initiate melee combat with me, but in the end, I won the fight.” He recounted, not an ounce of pride in his voice.

“Did he suffer?” She asked.

He stalled for a bit. “I cannot say whether or not he did.” He admitted.

She nodded gravely. “I acknowledged long ago that my son would eventually die through things outside of his control… But to have it happen sooner than I expected.” She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I’m conflicted. I both despise you and not at the same time. I acknowledge that you were just doing your soldier’s duty, yet I still hate you for taking away my son.”

“I do not take pleasure in doing so, killing humans is not something I like doing.” He responded gravely. “I ultimately serve to protect humans, not kill them. But if needs must, I will raise my hand against those who would threaten me or the people I protect.”

“If only everyone had the conviction you have to save others…” She cracked a small smile at him. “I… again I’m conflicted. I don’t know how to feel. The person who killed my son… wants to protect me and others. This is a strange feeling.”

“The situation itself is very strange… And I myself am at a loss for words myself.” He admitted. Silence fell between the three of them, but it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable. He could not think of what else to say, and seemingly neither did she or the lieutenant.

Their comfortable silence was broken by the room going into a dark red, and a loud and foreboding alarm drew itself out in the hall. Marlow shot up and looked at her datapad. “Someone raised the alarm in the North West section of the base… But I can’t see anything on the cameras.”

“What could that mean?” the Astartes asked, turning towards the door cautiously.

“It either means they’ve penetrated deeper into the base than I thought they would’ve… or they’re cloaked.” She paled slightly at the implication.

“You mean, they are invisible to the naked eye?” He asked.

“I mean yes… They aren’t completely invisible but it’s difficult to spot them without any specific equipment, such as those that can see heat signatures.” She clarified.

He opened the door and peered out, not seeing much commotion, he closed it again and turned to the mother. “Do you have a weapon of any kind? A knife will do.”

“My son had a collection of knives that he left behind…” She mentioned as she walked towards a closet and opened it, taking out a long and rectangular drawer to reveal a panoply of knives.

“May I take one or two? I will return them.” He asked, his gauntlet hovering above an impressively large knife. She nodded, and he took two knives that honestly looked more like short swords. He turned towards the door and was about to head out before he was stopped by Marlow.

“Wait, you’re going to fight them by yourself?” She asked, amazed and afraid.

He turned towards her. “It is my duty, and the obligation of my chapter. In the spirit of our war cry.”

“And what is that?” She asked.

“For those we cherish, we die in glory.” She could feel the rumble in her chest, the conviction that he spoke with those words sparked fire in her heart and she saw his form straighten with the pride of his station, the duty he was handed down.

It was only a second more before he disappeared past the door smoothly and quietly, belying the solid mass that was his form.

She could now see why he was called an Angel. But instead of Angel of redemption or safety, he was an Angel of Death.


End file.
